“Dang. Did she forget about him?”
“Never. She never stopped loving him, even after all those years went by.”
The tears I was trying to keep at bay finally made their way down my cheeks.
“Mommy…”
I looked at my baby and palmed her cheeks. She stared into my eyes and a flicker of resonance showed up on her face as she pulled back from me.
“This is your story, isn’t it?”
I nodded again. “It is.”
“So, my dad isn’t my real dad?” I shook my head as I cried audibly.
“Aw, Mom.”
“Your papa gave me no choice. I didn’t want him or his family to get locked up, so I played by his rules.”
“So, you don’t know where he is?”
“I do now. He just came back into my life, which is why I’m telling you this.”
She looked away then back at me. “What am I supposed to do if I ever meet him?”
“You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do. I won’t force you, Megan. Justin is the father you’ve always known. I won’t take away what he has been to you, but your real father wants to meet you.”
“Is that why you and Dad are getting a divorce? Because you’re still in love with my real dad?”
“No. Your father and I are divorcing because of something he’s done.”
We were silent for a moment before Megan got up and left the kitchen.
“Megan!”
She kept going as I placed my face in my palms and continued to weep. I knew she wouldn’t take this well. It was why I tried to give her the backstory instead of just giving her the vague version. I felt terrible, but I knew I had to fix this, no matter what I had to do.
Feeling a tap on my shoulder, my head shot up to see Megan handing me a box of Kleenex. I took them from her hand as she reclaimed her seat.
“Mom, I’m not mad.”
“You’re not?”
She shook her head. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Always, baby.”
“I’ve always felt different. As I grew older and started to look at myself in the mirror, I started to realize that I looked nothing like Dad. I see a tinge of you in me, but not all the way. Like, I see no traces of my dad.
“It used to make me wonder, but I ignored it because not every child looks like their parents. Mariah looks like you and Dad, and that’s when I really started to question where I got my looks from. That doctor…”
“Is your father.”
“Wow…Is that why you called him by his first name, hugged him, then he called you out of the room and never came back?”
“Yes.”
“So, he doesn’t want to know me?”